Marsh Harbour

August 1, 2017

Of all the anchorages in the Abacos, Marsh Harbour is low on the list in terms of scenic beauty. It's the main port for the region and is a big commercial center. So how did we end up here on my birthday? Shouldn't we be anchored off a white sand beach, floating behind the boat with a tropical drink in hand? Yes, but weather. Our one interlude with unsettled weather occurred right before my birthday. We're getting the outer bands of Tropical Storm Emily which is resulting in strong southerly winds, a hefty chop, and lots of squalls. We spent the last few days at Man-O-War Cay, a dry island with a strong religious tradition. (Dry in terms of beverages consumed, rather not consumed.) It was quiet and beautiful and devoid of vacationers. A glimpse into what the Abacos would look like without tourism and continued strong ties to their Loyalist history. The island residents are renowned for their boat building skills and the waterfront is a true working one. Active boatyards and boatbuilding shops with the completed boats scattered across the harbor on moorings. The majority of the rental boat fleet in the Abacos are Albury Boats - sturdy center console boats made to withstand years of use. Albury is an Abaco name and draws its history back to the Loyalists.

We had the marina pool all to ourselves.

And here's the storm.

going out on a neighbor's go fast dinghy/tender

 We walked around town - admiring the neat yards with flowering bougainvillea, white picket fences, and the family name tacked above the front door. Most yards had fruit trees, small vegetable plots, and roosters crowing. Electricity is expensive and while the island didn't seem poor, no one was running their a/c despite the heat and humidity. Windows were open allowing the sea breeze to blow through. The ocean beach was gorgeous. Crystal clear water, soft white sand. We spent hours at the beach.

So how did we end up at Marsh Harbour for my birthday? It was the first day of sunny weather  for a couple of days and we were ready to leave Man-O-War. We left with the idea of going to Little Harbour, home of Pete's Pub and an artists' colony about 20 miles south. But when we left Man-O-War the wind and seas were directly from the south and we faced over three hours of motoring straight into wind and chop. No fun. We turned west to snorkel on Mermaid Reef just off Marsh Harbour. Freja and I spent an hour snorkeling in a natural aquarium - we saw almost every kind of little reef fish in our reef guidebook. Despite the 30 or more other snorkelers, it was a fun experience.

We motored a couple miles to the mouth of Marsh Harbour to look for lobster - Day 1 of lobster season! Freja and I went hunting first but we only saw a baby; Hans snorkeled the other side of the small cove and pulled up a big one! Lobster salad!

Happy Day 1 of lobster season!

teaching Freja the fine art of picking a lobster. Must get all the meat!

We decided to go to Marsh Harbour for dinner and to anchor for the night since it was 5PM and we were so close. However we only found one restaurant open and it was more of a bar serving fried food. Thinking of a nice birthday dinner, we decided to try our luck and go fast on both engines to Hope Town . . . 5 minutes later and 3 miles outside of Marsh Harbour, the starboard engine started overheating. I ran down below to check and found the exhaust hose had popped off the port engine. (!!!) Shit.

So, instead of a nice dinner, we spent 45 minutes floating around while Hans muscled the exhaust hose back on, put the distributor cap back on the starboard engine (??!!), and had cereal for dinner back at Marsh Harbour. We were feeling pretty disgruntled and fed up.

We reassessed the situation the next morning and after running through some checks and tightening the hose clamps even more, we felt much better about the engines. We headed back to Hope Town and spent the afternoon at the Hope Town Harbour Lodge - birthday redux...lunch out, relaxing at the pool and the beach, enjoying the view.

another lost tooth!

Hope Town Harbour Lodge

The pool deck and restaurant overlooking the ocean

Elbow Cay

July 28, 2017

After a week in Hope Town, both at a mooring just outside the harbor and a few days at the fancy marina, we motored a few miles south to Tahiti Beach at the southern end of Elbow Cay. It's a spot that's similar to Double Breasted Cays with a sandbar that is dry at low tide, palm trees, and brilliant blue water; but much more accessible to vacationers with rental boats, so it was always crowded. Really crowded (10+ boats), not Bahamas crowded (which is anything more than two boats). In the heat of the afternoon there were usually ten boats with 5-10 people on each boat. Still, we stayed for three days because we had the place to ourselves except from 12-6. And the view from the back deck was just gorgeous.

We found a treehouse structure built from driftwood and scavenged line and even had a little driftwood swing. We climbed to the top of a rocky outcropping overlooking Tilloo Cut and placed our own sones on a cairn a la Moana. Hans went out the cut and fished the drop-off, at one point hooking a grouper that was so big it broke the fishing rod. The rod, not the line!! Talk about the one that got away! Our neighbors on the boat behind us stopped by for drinks one evening. Mark is a Bahamian and full-time cruiser/liveaboard. He gave Hans some local fishing tips and commiserated with us about the less than stellar visibility in the water. He believes it's from the large number of center console fishing boats that are constantly stirring up the water. It's easy to see that - the number of fancy boats with 2-3 outboards on the back is astounding.

painting her magic wand she found with Peter Rabbig

nice spot for a picnic lunch

our climbing champion

Looking out to Tilloo cut and the cairn where we placed our rocks

up at the top of the treehouse

I had stopped at the grocery store before we left Hope Town so we had a number of nice meals at home - giving us a good change of pace from our spaghetti, quesadillas, and jam sandwiches we'd been eating a lot of. We had a luxury lunch at Firefly Resort - fresh, local, and not deep-fried. We relaxed in the hammock in the shade and the girls swam off the swimming platform. The resort is beautiful - multi-level decking, stone walls that blended into the natural landscape, and brightly colored cottages built on a hillside - all overlooking the Sea of Abaco.

relaxed and happy at Firefly Resort

swimming platform that is underwater and high tide, dry at low tide

watching the sunset, and our neighbor for the night

We suspected bad water as the culprit for our GI problems so we added some bleach to our water tanks. Way too much and it tasted like we were drinking from the swimming pool. We were also out of milk so we weighed anchor and headed back to Hope Town to resupply and get fresh, non-bleach-y water.

Hope Town

July 22, 2017

Spotting the iconic red and white striped lighthouse in the Hope Town harbor was a huge milestone. We'd done it! We left Jacksonville on an old boat that we'd maintained as best as possible with our medical school and residency and stay-at-home-mom incomes. [Read: debt, stipend, no income.] Some systems were brand new (solar panel), some were new five years ago (fridge, a/c), and some we'd just plain neglected (batteries). We left with the goal of reaching Hope Town - a picturesque harbor, Bahamian settlement, with amazing beaches and great snorkeling; and also a highlight of our trip on Whisper since we met lifeline friends there. So when we saw that lighthouse we cheered, high-fives, and felt a huge sense of achievement. Good job Rhumb Line! Who thought that our old Carver would have made it from Philadelphia to Hope Town, all the while providing us with a safe, cozy  home where we raised our girls for the early years of their lives. The jubilation was paired equally with a sense of relief. We'd made it to a well-developed part of the Bahamas and we're stranded on an out island or on the middle of the Banks or in the middle of the Gulf Stream. 

Hope Town has everything a boater could want: a protected anchorage lined with restaurants, marinas, and a small grocery store. A library, a playground (fantastic!), a sailing club, and it's only a few steps from the gorgeous, palm-lined, white sand public beach. Mountains of coral (as Freja calls them) are a short swim offshore, and Hans is excited to hop a mere mile offshore to fish. Sitting at anchor, I can hear the waves breaking on the beach just on the other side of the island.

Waiting for the light keeper to show up to light up the lamp.
It's a manual lighthouse, requiring hand lighting every night.

climbing up the lighthouse to watch the lighting

Jeffrey, one of the keepers.

Harbour's Edge restaurant, a great spot in the harbor

post-dinner beach walk

Bingo at Jack's. Always fun. Alas, we weren't winners.

But these kids. They are such homebodies. It's like pulling teeth to get them off the boat. And they're not sitting in a/c with a TV. At anchor we don't have TV or internet and we don't own a tablet. They're screen-free and a/c free, completely self-entertained and they still won't leave the boat! Drawing, writing books, playing with figurines, playing a huge variety of make-believe games, swimming off the boat. It certainly makes for relaxing days but I do go a little stir-crazy.

We found an old printer up for grabs outside a realtor's office so we took it home for some tinkering.

Systems

Living at anchor is life on an off-the-grid floating home. If you do it right, you can stock up on food, catch fish, and be at sea (or anchor) for months. We have a bank of batteries (think car/tractor/RV size batteries) powered by a 150 watt solar panel mounted on our T-top (the roof over the back deck). Our batteries weren't charging very well so Hans investigated and one had very low voltage and was sucking power from the other two batteries, causing all batteries to have low voltage. He pulled that battery so we're down to two batteries. Our main power draw if the fridge and calling it "inefficient" is generous. We also have fans, lights, a fresh water pump (to pull the water from our water tank out  the faucets), bilge pumps, and toilet pumps. (There's a lot of plumbing on boats!) We find that we can go three days maximum at anchor before needing a power boost, either by running the engines or pulling into a marina and plugging in. We could always have more power (more solar) and more batteries, but for short-term cruising, we make it work.

We carry approximately 100 gallons of water which lasts us for 5-7 days if we are conscientious about our usage without feeling like dirty, salty sailors. We use the water to have quick freshwater rinses after swimming, we wash our dishes, we hydrate ourselves, wash hands, etc. We've all had some unpleasant GI upsets recently so we've decided to buy drinking water for our last couple weeks.

For long-term cruising we'll have 'UGE power and a 'UGE battery bank.

Living the vacation life

July 18, 2017
Green Turtle Cay

No exercise; attached to land not water; a/c; comfort; restaurants. Fun. But different.

We pulled into Green Turtle Cay and tied up at Bluff House Marina. Our water tanks were empty, the fridge was near empty, and the lockers only had flour, pasta, and a couple cans of beans. After over a week in the out islands, it was time to re-enter civilization, at least for a day or two.

A day or two turned into three as we enjoyed the comforts of being at the marina. A/c, TV for the kids (=babysitter for the parents), restaurants, golf cart rental, water, water water (at .30 cents/gallon). Marina life in the Bahamas is easy living, at a price of course.

north end of Green Turtle

"Almost as fun as the fair!"

The golf cart rides were so much fun - and so different from our previous cruising life. We toured the whole island via golf cart which was fast, fun, and easy, as opposed to 10 years ago when we dinghies, hitchhiked, or relied on other cruisers' rental cars and generosity. We went to town and to the north end - the girls screaming and giggling the whole way. We stopped at the dump to show the girls what happens to trash, why we recycle, and we we try not to consume so much.





We ate out, a lot. Almost every meal. When we left Manjack we were down to huevos rancheros and jam sandwiches. We were ready for some variety! The restaurants at Green Turtle were very good, especially considering the limited food options and lack of foodie culture. We always opted for "fresh catch" and it was never overcooked. Conch fritters never disappoint, but also never live up to the ones we made at Walker's Cay.

Princess spotting in the settlement.

fresh conch salad

We restocked our lockers from the few small grocery stores in town; we found souvenirs at a little gift shop; we had a Goombay Smash at Miss Bee's - reputed to be the home of the original Goombay Smash. We played tourist and, after two weeks of living the barebones cruising lifestyle, it was fun.

attracting the nurse sharks at the marina.

After three days, I was ready to leave. Living the marina life, we found ourselves connected to land instead of water. When we wanted to go somewhere we hopped in the golf cart instead of the dinghy. If we were hot we swam in the pool or sat in the a/c instead of jumping off the side of the boat into the clear Bahamian waters. Life on the hook is filled with exercise - swimming, hiking, paddling, sweating. Very different from the easy marina life.

Day 1 of a GI bug that plagued me for the entire trip.
I fell asleep and Matilda took care of me while I was sleeping. Sweet girl.

TV TV TV!!